Silent Hill 2: His Choice
by CowboyBeboper
Summary: The story tells of the last days of Mary Sunderland's life and the choice James Sunderland decides to make
1. Default Chapter

Silent Hill 2 – His Choice

Act I

James Sunderland walked slowly through the automatic doors of the large hospital, the tall white building standing amidst the surrounding area of homes and small businesses. He raised his shoulders as the sudden sensation of the hospital's cool air washed over the skin of his neck and rustled his blond, wavy hair. His dark green faux leather jacket usually kept him warm, but the sudden rush of air always seemed to catch him by surprise considering how warm the outside world is every time he visits. James slowly walked toward the reception desk, placing one hand in his jacket pocket and the other tightening around the stems of a bouquet or dark red roses. He looked at the young nurse at the reception desk, who was busily writing on important looking papers and taking calls. The nurse's hair was tied into a small bun with a pencil holding the strands in place. The bright white nurses cap with its small red cross contrasted the darkness of her soft hair. Her skin was slightly dark, her face small, her cheekbones high. James often thought she had a sort of "baby face," a face that always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. James watch her for a moment as her hands elegantly guided the pen across the paper she had been using. James walked directly in front of the reception desk and made a soft sound in his throat to get the woman's. The nurses lifted her head, looking into James' dark eyes, her own as blue as sapphires. James caught his breath slightly as he stared into her eyes, a few strands of her dark hair falling over her face gracefully. The nurse smiled at him.

"Hello, James," the nurse said, her voice bright and cheery. "How are you today?"

"I'm…well." James continued to stare into her eyes. James could do nothing accept to look at the woman, noting beauty, attractiveness and grace of her face, neck and dark skin. With every visit to the hospital, James always noticed this woman at the reception desk. He wondered if she had been chosen as the permanent receptionist, forced to busy herself with paperwork. Another part of him made the realization that perhaps he had made himself leave when he knew this particular woman would be taking her shift.

"How are you?" James asked.

"Oh, I can't complain," the woman said as she thrust her arms out in front of her curvy figure, stretching. The soft grunt that escaped her lips as she pulled her arms forward made the hairs on the back of James' neck stand on end. James looked up and down the woman's figure, taking in the image of her white nurses uniform fitted her figure almost perfectly. "Things have been so slow today. I guess I should be happy that people aren't breaking their arms or legs." She let out a high, sweet laugh. James smiled at her, watching as the woman began to play with the earring on her right ear.

"I'm here to see Mary," James said, showing the flowers to the nurse. "I brought her some nice flowers today."

The nurse's smiled faded slightly, her eyes showing a hint of sadness. "She could use those today, James. She's…well, you know." She handed James a brown clipboard which held a chart, the spaces filled by different scripts and signatures. James placed the bouquet under his arm as he reached for a pen, signing himself in on the clipboard the nurse offered him.

"Yes, I know…" James' voice trailed off as he signed his name. Mary was growing more emotional these past few weeks, often yelling at the doctors and nurses. "Has anything…happened?"

The nurse took the clipboard from James and clutched it against her chest. James' neck hairs stood once again. "No, James. She just gets upset. She yells and screams at the doctors and nurses. We've been trying to keep female nurses away from her room. She gets the most angry at them."

James sighed, taking the flowers in both hands. "I understand. I hope she hasn't been troubling everyone too much. I hope I could cheer her up a little."

"James?" the woman asked, reaching to place her hand on his. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you." James reluctantly slid his hand away from the woman's soft, warm touch. Standing up straight, he smiled at the woman. "Thanks for the talk. I'm going to see my wife." Turning away from the desk, James walked towards the lobby's elevators, pressing his finger firmly against the "up" button. After a few short moments, James stepped inside the plain elevator, the sounds of subtle muzak filling his ears as the double doors slowly came together. The brief feeling of gravity pushing James's body down told him that the elevator began its ascent.

"Thirty five seconds," James whispered to himself. James had been making so many trips to see Mary that he knew how long it took for the elevator to reach her ward.

Mary Sunderland had contracted a fatal disease. The illness was relatively new to the medical world and therefore could not be properly treated. No one really knew what was happening to her. He could still remember his discussion almost three years ago with Mary's doctor….

"Mary's…going to die?" James was utterly shocked. He stared at the man wearing a large white overcoat sitting in a chair across from him, his arms folded neatly on top of the large wooden desk. The room the two men occupied was a traditional doctor's study, with bookcases lining the walls, several medical and college degrees nailed to the wall behind the doctor's desk. James had been sitting in one of the two cushioned seats positioned on the other side of the desk. Upon hearing the terrible news, James stood up and paced, stopping behind his chair. His hands gripped the backing tightly, his eyes staring at the complex flower patter of the chair. His heart felt as if it were being ripped to shreds. "You…you must be joking."

The doctor rubbed his mouth with his hand, took off his glasses and commenced with his cleaning ritual. Placing the glasses back onto his old face, the man leaned forward, his arms resting over the manila-colored folder which detailed Mary's death sentence. "I'm very sorry. I understand that this must be very hard to accept."

James scoffed. "You're damn right it's hard to accept!" James pushed the chair forward in anger, causing it to slam against the foot of the doctor's desk, knocking over a ceramic cup, spilling pens and pencils all over the desktop. James paced around the room, stopping directly behind the doctor, studying the various degrees from renowned universities and medical schools. He turned to the doctor, getting close to his face. His eyes were bright with frustration and desperation.

James slammed his fist against the wall, causing of the framed degrees to fall from its place on the wall. "But you're a doctor! It's your job to heal people!" His heart raced, tears formed in his eyes. "How can you just let her _die_!"

"Please, Mr. Sunderland, calm down," the doctor spoke in a calm and quiet voice. He stood up from his desk, and guided James to the other chair. When James was settled, the doctor picked up the chair that James knocked over. Placing it next to him, the doctor sat and rested a hand on James' back.

"As her doctor, Mr. Sunderland, I promise I'll do what I can. But you should know…there's still no effective treatment for her condition."

James buried his face within his hands, feeling his palms dampen as he cried silently. After a minute of complete silence, James rubbed his eyes and looked at Mary's doctor. "How long does she have?"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure. Three years at the most. Perhaps at least six months. It is very hard to say with certainty. We don't know what we are dealing with."

"Three years…six months," James couldn't believe his ears. "This isn't fair. What should I do, doctor?"

"Be with Mary, James. Be with your wife. Love her, that is the best thing she needs right now. She needs you."

James felt his body jump slightly as the elevator came to a halt. With a soft chime, the double doors opened slowly, revealing the white hospital hallway. The area was quiet, a soft thumping breaking the silence as his boots walked over the white linoleum floor. As James made his way down the hall, he could see a figure coming out from Mary's room.

"Ah, James," the man spoke. It was Mary's doctor.

"Hello, doctor, how is she?"

"Lovely day we are having today, aren't we? I opened up the windows in Mary's room so the breeze could come through. I'm sure she will appreciate that."

"Doctor," James took the man's arm, pulling him close. "Doctor, how is Mary?"

The other man sighed. "Not very well. According to my tests, she has just about reached her time. I would expect a few more days for her."

James hung his head in silence, his knees felt weak.

"We are going to let her go home. We don't normally do this, but I don't want her last few precious moments to be one of confinement in a hospital room, with cold machines telling her how much life she has in her. I think she deserves to go home."

"I understand. Thank you, doctor. Can I take her home with me now?"

"We'd like to keep her here one more night just to get things prepared. Sign the paperwork, pack her things, get her ready for movement. You understand, yes?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you."

"Go and see her, James," the doctor spoke as he walked past James, entering the room of another patient down the hall. James sighed softly, slowly turning the door handle and walked into Mary's room.

The hospital room was like those you see in the television shows. It was a large one-person room, with a large hospital bed in the center of the room surrounded by devices to measure the patient's life functions. A soft, pulsing beeping emanated from the machines. James walked over to a chair placed next to Mary's bed. She was sitting up looking out through the window at the far side of the room, her lower half covered by a blue, wool blanket. She was wearing a peach colored pajama top, a color that greatly contrasted with the color of her skin tone. Instead of having a smooth face that carried warmth and life, the disease caused her skin to grow dark and blotchy. Blisters covered the left side of her face, her lips dark and swollen. The space around her eyes was dark red. Mary turned to look at James, fire in her eyes.

"What do you want, James?" Mary asked, her voice razor sharp.

"I, uh…I brought you some flowers." James lifted the bouquet of roses, placing them on Mary's lap.

"Flowers?" Mary sounded incredulous. "I don't want any damn flowers!" She weakly picked up the bouquet and threw them at the direction of the open window, obviously trying to throw the flowers out of the room. She turned her head away from James, who felt hurt at his wife's action.

"Mary, please. The doctor's are going to let you come home tomorrow."

"Just go home, already, James. You don't want me to come home."

"What are you saying, Mary? Of course, I –"

"Look at me!" Mary yelled, leaning her body close to James. "I don't deserve to go home, I don't deserve flowers. Between the disease, drugs, I look like a monster. You wouldn't want a monster around you."

"Mary…" James looked at her, moving to take her hand in his.

"Well, what are you looking at?" She snatched her hand away from James' reach. "Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone already!" Mary broke down into tears, covering her disease-ridden face with her hands. "I'm no use to anyone. I'll be dead soon, anyway. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow…."

"Mary…please…."

"It'd be easier if they'd just kill me, you know?" Mary wiped her eyes, sighing. "But I guess the hospital is making a nice profit off me. They want to keep me alive." The woman let out a scornful laugh and then looked at James. "Are you still here? I told you to go! Are you deaf?! Don't come back!"

Mary turned over to lie on her side, facing her back to James. He could hear the soft whimpering coming from his wife, her body jerking as she cried. James got up from his seat, slowly walking to the door. He was about to leave when he heard his wife's voice through her tears.

"James. Wait. Please don't go. Stay with me. Don't leave me alone."

James rushed to Mary's side, taking her disfigured hands into his own, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm here, Mary."

"I didn't mean what I said," she spoke through her tears. "Please James, tell me I'll be okay. Tell me I'm not going to die. Help me."

James couldn't feel any more heart broken than he did now. He stroked his wife's hair, holding her close. "You'll be okay, Mary. Tomorrow, you'll come home with me. We'll spend the entire day together. Just you and me, like at Lakeside."

"James. I'm sorry."

James cradled his wife in his arms, stroking her hair. "Mary, don't be sorry. Never be sorry."

The couple held each other quietly, James slowly rocking Mary to sleep. When he could hear the slow breathing of her slumber, he placed her gently on the bed and proceeded to leave the room. Standing in the doorway, James took a long look at his dying wife, unable to stand to see her in her present state. He wish there was some way to ease her pain, to bring her peace. James left the hospital room and walked towards the elevator, drowning in his feeling of hopelessness.

"Thirty five seconds," James thought to himself.


	2. Act II

Act II

As James walked out from the hospital's main entrance, he dug his right hand into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. Walking quietly to his car, all he could really think about was Mary's inevitable death. He couldn't stand to look at her today, knowing that it would be over soon. He felt as if he really couldn't stand looking at her at all because of the disease. James reached his car, unlocking the driver's side door and sat quietly in the seat. He thought about how unfair everything was, how his once beautiful wife had been forced into looking so horribly disfigured by the unknown virus. He closed his eyes, recalling fond memories with his wife. He remembered one particular trip to the Lakeside Hotel in Silent Hill about four years ago. Mary had been young and vibrant, they expressed their love fore each other physically on several occasions, and would walk hand in hand near the lake, sharing a life of happiness and love. The smile that had been placed on James' face slowly disappeared as he recalled the day when Mary started feeling sick. She would have several coughing fits and instances where her body felt numb and weak. When they went to see a doctor about it, that was when James was faced with the fact that Mary was going to die. No more vacations to the lake, no more walks on a sunny day, and definitely no more physical expressions of love between them.

James quickly thrust the key into the car's ignition, turning it until he heard the purring of the car's engine. James looked behind him as he backed the car out and drove rather quickly out of the parking lot.

Ever since he heard Mary's time limit, James had grown increasingly saddened and depressed. Often times, he would go to bars a drink for several hours, granting him the briefest of respite from the world that was crashing down around him. As Mary's disease got worse and her beauty spoiled, James frequented bars at a growing rate. He soon developed the habit of spending a few moments of Mary and then drive off to a nearby bar to drink for several hours. Today would be no different.

Much like the way to Mary's hospital room, James knew the way to the Crimson Jewel bar by heart. Located exactly twenty minutes away from the hospital, it had become James' sanctuary from a life of sadness, anger and pain. He pulled into a space near the bar's entrance and walked in, the smell of smoke and alcohol filling his nose, the gentle sounds of jazz playing on the radio filled his ears. The bar was busy when James arrived, with many people crowding the counter and various tables. Spotting an empty table in a dark corner, James quickly squeezed by men and women who had been smiling, laughing and conversing as if they had no care in the world. James longed for days like that, he wished his life could return to some level of normalcy. He wished he could laugh again; he wished he could be happy again.

Sitting himself at the table, James pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. A young woman approached him, carrying a large black disc which held empty bottles and glasses. She smiled gently at him.

"Hi, James."

"Hello, Nancy."

"How's it going?"

James sighed and looked at the tabletop. The woman leaned forward.

"James, I'm sorry," the woman spoke, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "It's your wife again, isn't it?"

"How'd you guess?" James said with a quiet laugh.

"Well, you've been coming here quite a bit, honey. I mean…you've developed a routine." She smiled softly at him. "You're a regular."

James looked at her, placing his hand over hers. The hairs on his neck stood again as he felt her soft, warm skin. "It won't be long, now."

The woman placed a hand over her mouth to cover a gasp. "James, I'm so sorry. Do you need to talk? That might help."

"No, thank you, Nancy. May I just have the usual please?"

"James, you really should talk. Drinking won't solve anything, you know."

"The usual, please, Nancy."

The woman gave James a concerned look before spinning on her heels and walked towards the counter. She came back to James' table several moments later with an open bottle of beer. James lifted the glass bottle and began to nurse it quietly.

James continued to drink well into the afternoon. He felt even more depressed now that he knew his wife's death was inevitable. Two hours had passed and James still drank. He thought that it wasn't fair, he couldn't understand why this was happening to him. He'd done nothing wrong and he treated his wife well, why did he have to suffer so? James watched as people came and left the bar. As the night began to arrive, the bar would soon be occupied by a younger crowd, ready to have fun and enjoy the nightlife. James remembered when he was like that, spending nights with friends on the town, living for the day and not concerned about what tomorrow would bring.

He was in the middle of his fourth bottle when James noticed a woman walking into the bar by herself. He couldn't tell from where he sat, but she looked to be almost the same height as he. James couldn't help but stare at her because she was so beautiful. Her body had a near-hourglass figure to it which moved and slithered gracefully as she made her way past the crowd. When she received her drink from the bartender, her eyes met with James' and there was the briefest of acknowledgement from the both of them. The woman sipped from her short glass slowly and placed it against the exposed skin below the choker wrapped around her neck, smiling at him. The small medallion on the choker glittered in the light of the bar. The woman wore a red long sleeve top which came together in front, only one button had been done, revealing an off white undershirt. Her midriff was exposed, and James could see a small blotch just a few inches from her navel. The skirt she wore was a little short and made from a cheetah skin pattern. Hung at her waste was a small gold string that held several medallions similar to the one on her choker.

James nodded at the woman and she approached his table, her walk seductive and sensual. James lowered his hands underneath the table, his left hand feeling for the wedding band on his right hand. After meeting brief resistance, he pulled the ring off his finger and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He looked up after the task was done, finding the woman looking over him.

"Hi there."

"Hi. Have a seat?"

The woman smiled at James, as she pulled a chair from a nearby table. As she did this, James was able to make out the dark blotch on her skin: it was a tattoo of a butterfly. The woman sat close to James, crossing her long legs which had been partially covered by knee high boots. James started at the woman, the hairs on his neck raised.

"So, what's your name?"

James thought for a moment before replying. "Uh, Richard. Richard Smith. What's your name?"

"Eileen. So what brings you here Richard?"

James leaned back in his chair. "Well, I'm feeling pretty lonely."

Eileen let out a laugh. "I couldn't believe that a guy as good looking as you would be lonely. You must have a girlfriend. Wife?"

James looked at her, the woman was giving him a coy smile. "No, I…I'm not married. No girlfriend, either."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, lucky, eh?" She drank from her glass, brushing a strand of black hair from her face. James looked at the woman's short blond hair, watching it gently form to the woman's guiding hand as she tucked it behind her ear. James looked at the table, his hand on the beer bottle. The woman leaned over to James, her lips close to his ear. She began to whisper to him.

"I could help you, Richard. I could keep you company."

James looked at her, his eyes showing a slight level of surprise. "Are you a…? I mean, forgive me but, are you…?"

"A working girl? Does that really matter?" The woman smiled as she leaned back in her chair. She cocked her head to one side and lowered her head so that her chin touched the highest part of her chest.

"No, I guess not."

"Come on, this place is crowded. I live not too far from here. Let's go have some peace and quiet, shall we?"

James racked his brain, he was ready to say no when Eileen came close to him and kissed him softly on the lips. James stood silently and then whispered to her, "Let's go."

Both of them made their way out of the bar and into the night, the street was busy with cars driving up and down the street and pedestrians making their way to and from the bar. The woman took James' arm and led him down the sidewalk, resting her head on his shoulder, her jewelry made soft clinking sounds as she walked. After five minutes, they stopped in front of a small apartment complex that looked to James as if it were twenty years old. When they reached the front door, Eileen reached into the front of her undershirt and produced a small door key. With a quick thrust and turn, the door was unlocked and open. She grabbed James' arm again and led him into the building, guiding him towards the central staircase for the building. After they hiked up several floors, Eileen brought James to her room. Upon entering, James looked around at the small apartment. It was relatively large for a single person, the living room held a long green couches and a television set. Across the living room was a small kitchen that had been home to a beaten-looking refrigerator and stove. Eileen stood in front of James and wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing him deeply. James gently placed his arms around the woman's body, sighing as he kissed her back. He hadn't felt such warmth in a good long while. After a moment, Eileen pulled away from James, smiling at him.

"Why don't you sit over there and relax, sweetie. I'll only be a minute." Eileen turned around and headed towards her bedroom, the door standing wide open. James took a seat on one of the couches and noticed a mirror attached to a corner wall that reflected the image of Eileen's bedroom. James figured she intentionally did this as he could see her pacing in her bedroom, removing the choker from her neck and removing the red shirt. She turned so that her back faced the mirror and began to seductively pull the white undershirt from her body. Her hair fell gracefully as she removed the undershirt from over her head. James continued to stare intently at the mirror, watching as Eileen put this little show on for him. He could here a soft laugh from her room as she moved away from her position, away from the reflection of the mirror.

James hung his head and clasped his hands. He rocked slowly as he sat on the couch, thinking about what was going to happen. Was he wrong? Should he go through with this? James has been unable to physically love Mary for a good long while because of the disease. "I'm only human," James thought to himself. He tried to block out the part of him yelling for him to go home by thinking of Eileen, but he could only visualize Mary's disfigured face. That once lovely face had now been ruined. James placed his face in his hands as Mary's words from the hospital visit filled his head.

James. _Please don't go. Stay with me. Tell me that I am not going to die. Help me._

"Richard…"

James looked up at Eileen who had taken a seat next to James on the couch. She wore a sheer red top which partially obscured an equally sheer red bra. She still wore the cheetah patterned skirt and sat on her legs, smiling at James and taking hold of his arm.

"Let me help you, Richard."

Please don't go.

James couldn't shake off Mary's pleas, he tried to talk to Eileen.

"Eileen…you're very beautiful."

The woman smiled. "Thank you, hon."

_James._

"It's been awhile since I have been with a woman, Eileen."

_Help me._

"Well, let me make you happy, Richard. Let me help to forget about everything." Eileen moved over to James and sat in his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed James deeply. James trembled as the woman's body rested on top of him, her lips pressing hard against his own. His hands gripped Eileen's hips softly.

_James._

Tell me that I am not going to die.

Help me.

James.

Help me.

James felt his mind snap. He quickly took hold of Eileen's body and pushed her off from his lap, throwing her onto the other side of the couch. She looked at him with shocked eyes.

"Richard, what's wrong?"

"I can't do this. I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

James got up and ran for the door. Throwing it open, he ran down the stairs and burst through the front door of the apartment building. He ran down the sidewalk towards the bar parking lot. Fumbling for his keys, he opened jumped into the car and turned the engine on. James peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the street. After driving for an hour, James pulled into a parking lot near a small park and shut off his car. James sat in his seat, crying softly. He couldn't get the pleas from Mary out of his mind. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the wedding ring, slipping it onto his right hand finger. He leaned back into his seat, resting his head against the window and stared into the night sky.

"Mary," James whispered. "I'm so sorry, Mary." James crossed his arms and fell asleep.


	3. Act III

Act III  
  
James stood with the doctor in the hospital hallway. They had been discussing several conditions for Mary's stay at home and filling out several forms. James glanced at two orderlies who stepped into Mary's room and noted one of them bringing along a wheelchair. He peered into the room and watched as they lifted Mary's body from the bed and into the chair, covering the lower half of her body with a heavy blanket. They placed her in front of the window and left the room, leaving Mary by herself.  
"Well, Mr. Sunderland, here we are," the doctor said as he glanced at a chart. "Everything is set for Mary's trip home. Couldn't have planned a more beautiful day for it, right?"  
James nodded as he looked at Mary in her chair.  
"Do we have a date yet? How long?"  
"Well, looking at these charts, it is my educated guess that she will have about two days left. I would recommend taking special care of her. You should see to her as often as you can. She will need help eating, but feed her liquids only. I feel she does not have the strength to eat a full meal."  
"I understand. I thought as much and got soups at the store earlier this morning." James smiled softly. "She always liked chicken and stars."  
The doctor smiled back at him and gripped his shoulder. "She'll enjoy that, I'm sure. Make sure she gets plenty to eat and make sure she is comfortable. These final days may be uncomfortable for Mary. It is our hope that she will go peacefully in her sleep."  
"What if she doesn't 'go peacefully?'"  
"Well...we are afraid of her having another coughing fit. With her in such a weak state, I wouldn't expect her to deal with it. Such a strong fit of coughing could kill her too."  
James slumped against the wall, looking at the floor.  
"Mr. Sunderland, James, focus on her right now. Make her happy as best you can."  
"I will. I can promise you that."  
"On behalf of the entire staff who cared for Mary, I want to tell you that we are sorry. We wished we could have done more. Those who attended to her cared for her and loved her. It will be hard on them to know of her passing. I wish there was more we could do."  
James took the doctor's hand in his own, gripping it tightly. "Thank you, doctor. I know we have both been down a long, hard road. You've done all you could. I thank you for that."  
James released the doctor's hand, who nodded and walked down the hall. James stepped into Mary's room and walked over to the wheelchair. He knelt down and took her hand in his own. She was still wearing her peach colored pajamas.  
"Mary?"  
"Not long now, is it James?'  
"Mary."  
"You're here to take me home?"  
"Yes, we are going to have a nice time together, just you and me."  
Mary sat silently, taking her hand out of James' grip. She placed her hands in her lap and hung her head. Her face still retained the blotchy and blistered look. It broke James' heart to see that. He got to his feet and took Mary's bag from the bed, grabbed the fabric handles and then moved behind the wheelchair, taking the two plastic handles in his hands. He pulled the chair out of the room and gently rolled Mary down the hallway towards the elevator. When they reached the lobby, James nodded to the nurse at the reception desk who watched with sad, teary eyes as James wheeled Mary towards the exit.  
When he reached his car, James opened the passenger door and walked over to Mary. He gently lifted her from the wheelchair and placed her on the dark car seat. He covered her with the hospital blanket and shut the door. Folding up the wheelchair, he quickly put it in the trunk along with Mary's small bag, slamming the trunk shut before climbing into the front seat. He smiled at Mary as he placed the key into the ignition.  
"Ready?"  
"Did you see how they looked at me, James?  
"What are you talking about?"  
"Those people," Maria looked out her window, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "They see me as a monster. I am a monster."  
"No...no, Mary. You're not a monster."  
"How can you say that? Have you even looked at me? Look at me James!" She stared at him, the fire in her eyes again.  
"Mary...I don't care how you look."  
Mary scoffed. "What a lie. You've seen all the beautiful people in the hospital. What makes you stay with me? You don't want a monster for a wife."  
"I want you, Mary. You're not a monster."  
"Just take me home, James. Like it even matters anymore."  
James turned the ignition, causing the car to shake softly. He pulled out and left the hospital parking lot for the last time. It took a longer amount of time to reach their apartment because of heavy traffic. When they finally arrived, James parked his car and took out the bag and wheelchair from the trunk, unfolding it next to the passenger side of the car. Gently lifting Mary out of the car, he carefully set her down and covered her up. James guided Mary inside the apartment building and to the elevator. James couldn't help but remember when Eileen took him to her place. James' building was definitely nicer than that of Eileen's. He wondered what she would think of him in a place like this. Perhaps she would want to stay with him. She was a beautiful woman.  
"James? What are you waiting for?" Mary asked. James was so deep in thought about Eileen that he didn't realize the elevator was open and waiting for them. He apologized to Mary and pushed the chair in the elevator. The elevator had red carpeting and was lined by brass-colored mirrors. James closed his eyes and prepared for the inevitable. Mary then began to cry.  
"I'm so sorry, James."  
James made a "shushing" sound as he gently stroked her hair. When the elevator finished its ascent, he continued to wheel Mary to their room. Mary and James shared a very nice apartment which had a spacious living room and dining room that had been eloquently furnished by Mary when they first moved in. At the far end of the living room was a set of large doors that led to a medium-sized balcony. James pushed the wheelchair in the center of the living room and left Mary there while he shut the door and placed Mary's bag in the kitchen.  
"Mary? Are you hungry? I bought some chicken and stars. You like that."  
"Not right now, James. Take me to the balcony."  
James rushed over to her and pushed the wheelchair towards the double doors, opening them before pushing Mary outside. The air was cool and the wind blew threw Mary's hair, she shivered briefly before James wrapped her with a blanket. He moved a lawn chair next to Mary and sat, watching her, his heart in pain at the sight before him.  
"James. It's right about what they say."  
"Say what, Mary?"  
"Life is made even more beautiful when you know you're going to die."  
"Mary, no...."  
"Yes, James. Knowing that you're never going to see everyday things. Knowing that you'll never feel the caress of a gentle breeze across your face. Never feel the warmth of spring." Mary began to cry silently, the tears falling from her blotchy eyes. "Why must it be me, James? What have I done? Why must this happen?"  
James took Mary's hands, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. "I don't know, Mary. You don't deserve this, I understand how you feel."  
"You could never understand how I feel, James. You will not have to worry about your time for many years. I'm dying now, James. You'll die later. You couldn't possibly know how I feel."  
Mary sat in her wheelchair, crying quietly. James felt so helpless, he couldn't believe that there was nothing he could do. He was powerless, unable to do anything except watch his wife's life waste away. Nothing to prevent the fact that he could wake up tomorrow morning and find her lifeless body. He wiped his tears away and cleared his throat.  
"Mary, what can I do for you now? There must be something."  
"Love me, James," Mary whispered as she looked at her husband. Her space around her eyes looked inflamed. Her blotchy and blistering face appeared to have a rough texture under the light of the sun. Her lips were still swollen, blistered and discolored. She was in a constant state of slow degeneration. But at that moment, James didn't see that. He could only see the face he fell in love with, the face he would always remember.  
"I'll always love you, Mary. Everything I do for you comes from my love for you."  
James and Mary spent an hour on the balcony, taking in the cool afternoon. The highlight for both of them had been watching the sunset. Mary cried as the sun sank, declaring it to be the most beautiful thing she had ever gotten the opportunity to witness. James took his wife inside the apartment and pushed her towards the dining room table. He placed candles on the oak tabletop and lit them before moving into the kitchen and preparing a small dinner for Mary. James entered the room several minutes later with a bowl of soup in his hands. Sitting to her side, James slowly and gently began to feed the soup to her, allowing Mary to feed herself several spoonfuls. Filling another bowl for himself in the kitchen, James enjoyed the quiet meal with his wife. When James accidentally spilled a spoonful of warm liquid on his shirt, Mary let out a soft laugh.  
"You are the only person in this country who has trouble with soup, James." Mary took James' spoon and dipped it into her bowl. James laughed as he dabbed a napkin on the wet spot on his shirt. He leaned towards Mary as she presented him with a soup-filled spoon. The couple shared this moment of peace and happiness together, ignoring for the briefest of moments that it would be their last.  
After the meal, Mary told James that she was feeling sleepy and would like to lie down in their bed. He picked her up gently in his arms and carried her across the apartment to their bedroom. He smiled at her and she smiled softly back at him.  
"This is familiar isn't it, Mary?"  
"Yes, James. Carry me over the threshold again."  
James took her into their bedroom and gently placed her on the soft mattress. Mary let out a soft sigh as she relaxed on top of the large, soft bed. She turned to face him and whispered.  
"Stay with me, James."  
"Yes, Mary. I'll be right here."  
James sat in a cushioned chair, pulling it close to the bed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, his clasped hands under his chin. He watched as his dying wife closed her eyes halfway, her chest slowly moving up and down with each breath. James couldn't stand this, he couldn't stand the feeling of utter helplessness. There had to be something he could do, something to ease her suffering, some way to kill the pain of death. James thought for several moments, watching his wife sleep, her head resting softly on the pillow. James watched her as he developed an idea. A sure-fire way to ease his wife's terrible suffering forever and finally bring her peace. 


	4. Finale

Finale

James sat quietly on one of the couches in the living room. He had left Mary's side after she appeared to have fallen asleep. James crossed his arms, the thought of being able to help Mary running through his mind. He picked up a small glass from the coffee table filled halfway with an amber liquid, placing it on his lips and drank, the slight sting of alcohol passing down his throat forced him to wince. He had been sitting on the couch drinking for only twenty minutes, thinking of it as his preparation. With a long, deep sigh, James got up from the couch and walked toward the bedroom. As he walked, images of his life with Mary flooded his mind, seeing how happy they were years ago. Mary had been full of warmth, love and life. She always had a smile on her face, especially when she was with James. He recalled their last visit to the Lakeside Hotel.

Mary stood in front of a large window, her arms crossed over her chest. James lifted up the video camera and aimed at her. Sensing this voyeuristic act, Mary turned and smiled at James.

"Are you taping again? C'mon…" Mary laughed and waved at the camera. She wore a pink wool coat over a yellow-ish long sleeve shirt covered lightly with a floral pattern. She moved away from the window and sat down in a chair, still looking out the window overlooking the vast Toluca Lake. James zoomed in on Mary's face.

"How do you like it here, Mary?" James asked.

"I don't know why," Mary let out a long sigh. "But I just love it here. It's so peaceful. You know what I heard?"

"What?"

"This whole area used to be a sacred place. I think I can see why. This place…it's wonderful. It's so easy to lose yourself here."

"I knew you'd like it here."

"It's too bad we have to leave. Promise me something, James."

"Anything, Mary."

"Please promise you'll take me again, James. Promise you'll bring me to Silent Hill. To our special place." Mary got up as she asked James. He smiled softly before Mary began to cough. His smiled faded away as he stopped recording, looking on as his wife had a short coughing fit. She looked back at him when she stopped, smiling.

"I'm fine, James. Really."

James was leaning against the bedroom's doorframe, watching Mary sleep. She was resting on top of the covers, her peach colored nightgown gently moving as she breathed slowly. James walked quietly over to the bed and stood above her, looking at what was once his beautiful wife. He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, causing Mary's eyes to flutter open.

"James?"

"Mary. Everything will be okay. I love you, Mary."

With one quick movement, James pulled the pillow out from under Mary's head, shoving it hard against her face. The pillow muffled the weak cries coming from Mary as she attempted to struggle her way out of James' murderous act. James could feel Mary's hands weakly take hold of his arms, feeling the soft thumps as Mary beat his strong arms with her weak fists. Her legs flailed about as James pressed the pillow down harder over her face, making sure to block all air passages. Mary continued her muffled cries, but the grunts coming from James blocked them from his ears. James gripped the pillow tighter as Mary's movements began to slow down, her fists hitting him softer and softer, her legs growing still. After a few minutes that felt like an eternity for James, the muffled cries ceased. The only sound filling the bedroom was James' heavy breathing. He lifted the pillow away from Mary's face and looked upon her. The look of utter shock and horror on her face tore James in two. He couldn't believe what he had done. Her eyes and mouth were wide in shock, causing his mind to reel and his stomach to turn. He rushed towards the bathroom and threw his head down into the toilet bowl, groaning as he began to throw up. When he was done, he fell back, resting against the wall across from the toilet, his breathing hard and heavy. When he felt as if his strength regained, he grabbed a towel from the bathtub and wiped his mouth and forehead, drying the perspiration. He flushed the toilet as he stood and made his way back into the bedroom. He walked over to Mary's lifeless body, shutting her eyes and closing her mouth. He rubbed her forehead tenderly, brushing the hair away from her face. He took her arms and gently folded them across her chest. James flexed his hands, his knuckles feeling tight and sore from clenching the pillow so tight. When the pain subsided, he stroked the side of Mary's face tenderly before staggering out of the room. He took his place back on the couch and filled his glass with the amber liquid. Looking at the contents of the glass, he quickly down the warm fluid and poured another helping into the glass. When the glass empty, he threw it down on the floor, sending glass shards all over the area. James fell over on his side and fell asleep on the couch.

It had been well into the late morning hours when James woke up. As he slowly sat up, he rubbed his head, feeling a sharp pain which felt as if it were deeply embedded into his brain. Stifling a yawn, he promised himself he would never drink so much again. He slowly stood up and stretched, thrusting his arms behind him until he heard a soft crack. Shaking his head, he walked over to the kitchen and started to prepare Mary's breakfast. He wished to make her a nice warm meal, but knew the illness she suffered wouldn't allow for her to keep solids down. He pulled out some left over soup from the refrigerator and placed the cold bowl into the microwave, setting the timer for just the right number of minutes. As the microwave let out a lone drone, James felt that it was time to wake up his wife. He had secretly hoped that she was feeling a little better so they could have more time together, but he remembered what the doctor had told him. He acknowledged that it could only be just a matter of time.

Stepping into the bedroom, James started to call out Mary's name.

"Mary? Sweetheart? It's morning. I'm making you some chicken and stars for breakfast. There was still some left over from last night." James smiled as he walked over to her. "Hopefully I'll keep it off my shirt this time. Mary? Mary?"

James noticed that she was not responding to his voice, he kneeled beside her and placed a hand on her wrist. His heart raced as he failed to detect a pulse.

"Mary? No, Mary. Please, not now. Don't leave me now."

His wife's lifeless body failed to respond. Tears formed in James eyes as he continued to call out her name.

"Mary? Mary, answer me, please. No, Mary. Not now."

James broke down and buried his face within her chest, crying over his dead wife. He stayed that way for a long time, just holding her and crying his heart out. He knew the day would come when the disease would kill her, he knew the doctor place a limit on her life, but he still couldn't believe it. The disease had finally run its fatal course. James pulled himself away from Mary, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He took a blanket from the closet and covered Mary's entire body with it. He walked towards the telephone and dialed the number of the hospital. After several rings, the nurse from the reception desk picked up the phone.

"Central Hospital, how may I direct your call?"

"Hello, it's James."

"James! How are you? How's Mary?"

James began to cry softly over the phone, trying hard to form the words. He thought he could hear the woman on the other end begin to cry as well.

"I need to speak with Mary's doctor. Immediately please."

"Sure, James. Hold please."

The woman's voice cut off from the phone and replaced by muzak. Several seconds later the music cut abruptly and was replaced by the doctor's voice.

"Hello, James."

"Doctor. I, uh…Mary, she…."  
"You don't have to say it, James. From the receptionist's emotional state and your difficulty with speaking right now, I can deduce what happened. James, I am so terribly sorry. People prepare for these situations but it always comes as a shock when it finally happens."

"What should I do?"

"You don't have to do anything, James. I will send an ambulance to your residence and we will take care of everything. I will see you in about half an hour, okay?"

"Okay, doctor. Thank you."

"You're welcome, James. See you soon."

James returned the phone to its place and looked at Mary's covered body. He started to cry again and walked into the living room. He noticed the shards of glass on the carpet and began to clean it up. When all the pieces of glass were removed from the floor, James sat in the dining room and waited for the doctor. About forty minutes later, everyone arrived. Two men with a gurney walked through the door and followed James into the bedroom. They lifted Mary's body at both ends and placed her on the carrier. After buckling a few straps to keep her from moving, the two men lifted the gurney and proceeded to make their way out of the apartment. The doctor sat down with James and conversed.

"Once again, I am terribly sorry for your loss, James. At least she went peacefully. Dying in one's sleep is the best way to go, as I see it."

"She didn't deserve to go, doctor. I can't understand why the virus chose to kill her."

"No one really knows how such a thing works. Especially what Mary had."

James nodded quietly.

"Did you make her happy, James?" The doctor asked.

"I tried to. I made sure she was comfortable. We sat out in the balcony and watched the sunset. We had a lovely dinner." James smiled at the memory of the two of them sharing their soup. Tears silently fell from his eyes. He wiped his eyes and spoke to the man sitting across from him.

"Thank you for everything, doctor. I'm sure Mary appreciates everything that you've done for her."

"You're welcome, James. Have you given any thoughts about Mary's burial? If you'd like, we can help set things up for you."

"I would like that."

"I'll make sure you get the proper information as quickly as possible."

"Money won't be an object, doctor. I want the best for her. I want her to know how much I loved her by giving the very best."

"I understand, James. If you'll excuse me, I'll go to the hospital right now and set everything up. Expect a call from me about two hours from now."

James escorted the doctor out his front door. The two men shook hands and embraced. "Are you going to be okay, James?"

"I'll be fine, doctor. Thank you."

"You'll hear from me soon enough, my friend. Good day."

James shut the door after the doctor left and then collapsed to the floor, crying. Why did the disease have to take his wife? It wasn't fair at all.

It had been three years since Mary's death. The funeral service provided by the doctor at the hospital was nothing short of wonderful. Everyone who cared for Mary was in attendance, all expressing their sadness and grief to James over Mary's untimely death. After the funeral, James rushed home to his apartment and sealed himself away for a week of mourning. When he saw fit to do so, James began to rebuild his life. He tried to develop a daily routine and stayed away from bars, reminding himself of the promise he made before he discovered Mary's dead body.

James had left his apartment for a good part of the day to run errands. When he returned, he walked over to the mailboxes in the lobby of the complex. Slipping the small key into the slot, he opened the metal casing which revealed a small collection of envelopes and flyers. Scanning the mail as he rode the elevator up to his floor, he noticed a smaller envelope made from what appeared to be light pink stationary and had the word "Mary" written upon the face. James didn't think much of it at first, believing it to be another card expressing one's sadness towards Mary's death.

When he finally reached his apartment, James poured himself a small glass of iced tea and sat in the living room, going through the mail once again. When he finally came to the soft pink envelope, he noticed that there was no return address written anywhere. Sliding his thumb into an open space between the base of the envelope and the flap, he quietly tore the envelope apart, revealing a smaller piece of paper made from the same stationary set. Unfolding the document, he couldn't believe his eyes.

In my restless dreams, I see that town.

Silent Hill.

You promised you'd take me there again someday, but you never did.

Well I'm alone there now,

In our "special place"

Waiting for you for you...

-Mary

James couldn't believe what he was reading. It had to be someone's cruel idea of a joke, but who would do such a thing? No one would have any reason to play such a horrible joke on him. But if no one would do that, did that mean the letter could have been real? Could Mary…really be in Silent Hill? A part of James told him that the idea was a crazy one, but a large part considered the possibility. If Mary were there, he could see her once again. Something inside ate at James, ate into him so much that he felt compelled to see his wife at least once more.

James left his apartment and made his way down to his car. Opening the trunk, he rummaged through the space and found an old map he used when he took Mary to the Lakeside Hotel. Getting into his car, he turned on the engine and drove away from the complex. It would be a long drive to Silent Hill, he expected it would take him at least several hours. The only thing he could really do in that time was to contemplate the nature of the mysterious letter.

When James reached the outskirts of South Vale, he was puzzled to see that the tunnel leading to the main road had been blocked off. Not knowing what to do, he pulled into the small parking lot for an observation deck that looked out into Toluca Lake. James got out of his car and stretched. Apart from the blocked tunnel, James wondered why the entire area was covered in a thick blanket of fog. The fog wasn't thick enough to completely bar him from seeing things, but his visibility was jeopardized nonetheless. With his hands in his green jacket pockets, he walked over towards the nearby restrooms, similar to those you would see on highway rest stops. The inside of the bathroom also looked like those highway bathrooms; the walls littered with graffiti, the floor covered in trash, two of the three stalls plastered with Out of Order signs. Looking at the deplorable state of the bathroom, James decided to hold it for awhile. He walked over to the sink to wash his hands. After drying them, he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror. Staring at himself, he ran a hand down across his face. He stood away from the sink and looked up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, James let out a long sigh. He looked at himself in the dirty mirror again.

"Mary, could you really be in this town?"

James walked out of the restroom and headed towards the concrete wall of the observation deck, staring at the quiet lake. Resting his arms at the top of the wall, James stood silently, lost in thought.

"It's ridiculous," James said to himself. "It couldn't possibly be true. A dead person can't write a letter. So then why am I looking for her? Our 'special place,' what could she mean?" James took the letter from his inside jacket pocket, feeling it with his fingers, tracing Mary's script with his fingertips. "This whole town was our special place. Does she mean the park on the lake? We spent the whole day there. Just the two of us, staring at the water. But Lakeside was our special place too. Mary loved it there with all her heart. Could Mary really be here? Is she really alive...waiting for me?"

James tucked the letter back inside his jacket. Walking over to his car, he took the map from the dashboard and shut the door. According to the map, the nature trail beginning from the observation deck led directly to South Vale. Folding the map several times, James placed started to hike the trail towards Silent Hill, hoping that the path enshrouded by fog would lead him to his beloved Mary. He would search the entire town for her. Turning back wasn't an option for James. He felt a really strong need to find his wife in Silent Hill and would not let anything stand in his way.


End file.
